


The View

by Ms_Tinker



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hopeless Romantic, Short One Shot, shameless fluffiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Tinker/pseuds/Ms_Tinker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan takes Vanessa to a spot he knows in New Mexico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The View

**Author's Note:**

> Being from New Mexico myself, I couldn't stop thinking about what Vanessa might think of the place if Ethan took her there, given that she is from London and has not done much traveling outside of it. 
> 
> Also, I'm considering doing another New Mexico related piece that is Ethan centric, so hopefully I can find the time to do that :)
> 
> Enjoy.

She runs her tongue over her pale lips, dried and flaking from the recent days spent in the hot desert sun. She resents the raw burn at the corners of her mouth, now chapped from her feeble attempts to keep them moist. It is moments like this when she questions how much she actually enjoys this place.

“Van, come here,” his voice sounds distant, though he cannot be more than a handful of yards away; his voice drifting across the vast emptiness, accompanied only by the faint buzzing from the trickle of water nearby. She squints into the sun, using her palm to shade her eyes from the late day sun, just barely able to make out his dark silhouette against the horizon.  But she follows his rumble.

Leaving the pair of horses to graze on the tufts of hard grass, she steps carefully through the clay, hardened from the recent rains. Her skirts in her hands, she weaves her way through the brush, attempting to not catch herself on too much. She notices her black shoes now covered with dust, the hem of her skirt looking similar. She smiles, imagining what her mother would have said:

_“Honestly, Vanessa! Have you no dignity? Your father and I have gone through enough to ensure that you do not run about looking as though you were some common tramp.”_

She is so focused on her thoughts and her steps that she jumps slightly at her sudden contact with his broad chest. Her eyes immediately shoot to his face, his black eyes twinkling in the evening light, a sly grin threating to escape his lips.

“Hi there,” he teases. “Something I can help you with, ma’am?”  

She purses her lips at him, hoping that it reads displeasure rather than amusement. She assumes the latter from his smile.

“I believe you wanted to show me something?” Her tone is flippant and she notes the subtle relaxation of his shoulders.

“Close your eyes.”

“Ethan, you’ve dragged me out this far, just tell—“

“Do you trust me?” He pulls a worn piece of blue silk from his pocket. Immediately her mind focuses on what he had used the silk for last night, the way it had glided across her skin, binding her wrists to the solid wood of the ornately, hand-carved headboard, the stress marks still visible from where she had strained against it, desperate to touch him, taste him, anything…

“Implicitly.” She cannot help the smirk that slithers across her lips, her teeth capturing her lower lip for a moment.

His body moves towards her, careful and purposeful with every action. He brings his hands to her face, pulling the piece of silk across her eyes. He is careful to let his fingertips linger across her scalp and she leans into him, becoming completely overwhelmed by his scent, his feel, his presence. She inhales sharply when she feels his hot breath dance across her ear.

“Then close your eyes.”

“How am I meant to avoid the cactus if I cannot see?” It is a feeble argument, but she makes it nonetheless. His response is to swing her arms around his neck and sweep her into his arms.

“Problem solved.” Even blinded by blue silk, she can still hear the smirk on his lips and she wants nothing more than bite it off him. But she stills, submitting to him just this once, as he has been so completely adamant about bringing her hear. They had been rained out the last few days, the rainy season bringing with it drenching rain that absolutely flooded everything in its path. Even with the Moors, she had never experienced anything quite so primordial and violent, giving it the distinct impression that such storms possessed the ability to wipe humanity from the face if the Earth if it willed it. It exhilarated her.

 

“Alright, here we are.” He sets her on her feet, stilling her impatient hands from removing the blindfold. “Not just yet,” he chastises. His body presses against her back, steady and hard. She leans back into him ever so slightly, her arms tucking around her body as she sighs in exasperation.

“Really Ethan, I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss.”

“Trust me,” he rumbles, his words somewhere between whisper and growl. Heat pools in her belly, already coiling for the release he promises in the timbre of his voice.

They wait for a moment, their breathing coming in unison.

Without warning, he tugs the silk from her eyes. What lies before her eyes is one of the most breathtaking views she has ever encountered, a swirling mix of color and movement.

The valley beneath them has been set ablaze by the setting sun, with the river cutting across the orange dirt in greens and blues. The mountain range on the opposite side is painted in a bright pink hue, the likes of which she has never seen before. The glint of gold down the stream follows the river to the small town on the railroad, glass windows reflecting beams of concentrated sunlight back at the couple. And the sky, Lord the sky—the brightest, richest blue she has ever seen, smeared with clouds and dust so that the formations are shades of grey, purple, and orange that are so bright she finds that she is completely overwhelmed.

“Do you like it?”

“Ethan…” She is at a loss for words, unable to wrap the dark corners of her mind around the fact that such a place filled with light and color can even exist. “It’s beautiful,” she finally whispers.

“I found this when I was a kid. I loved it instantly,” he wraps his arms around her, pulling her body flush against his. “A far cry from London, huh?”

She smiles broadly, nestling herself into his embrace. “Absolutely.”

He places a kiss at her temple and for a moment she almost remember the scar she as there from her time in the asylum—almost. Because for all of the darkness and horror she has borne witness to and experienced with her own flesh and blood, she often forgets that there can be moments as beautiful and happy as this. It is as if this place, this moment, in time were created just for her, and for now this moment is enough, more than enough, because she knows just how quickly it all can disappear. So she holds him just as tightly as he holds her and together they watch the sun set on perfection. 


End file.
